


Overprotected

by iLurked



Series: Simmons Family Values [2]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: AU, Crack, Established WxS, F/M, Hydra? What Hydra? AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-24
Updated: 2014-05-24
Packaged: 2018-01-26 08:05:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1680965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iLurked/pseuds/iLurked
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ward calculated the odds of fighting back, but the simulations he was running through his brain all ended up with him dead or gravely injured. He knew without a doubt that he might hit one of the men, but not both. That outcome was unacceptable. He could not die and leave Simmons unprotected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Overprotected

**Author's Note:**

> For #wssummer week 1 prompt: Fallout

Grant Ward stared down the barrels of four guns wielded by two people.

He cursed inwardly at having been caught with only an ICER for protection. He was getting sloppy in his old age.

Ward towered over the two men, but he was hesitant to launch an assault as the way the interlopers moved showed their military backgrounds. Therefore, before acting, he observed the interlopers.

One looked older than Ward, but his age did not only have to do with the number of years he had spent on the earth; he also seemed aged by the all the things he had seen, the things he had experienced. The way he moved: stealthily, purposefully, was also cause for alarm. He may be lean, but his arms were corded with muscles that could only be brought out by hard work and exercise, and not the kind that came out of a medicine bottle.

The other was younger; about Ward’s age. He looked like the classic all-American boy next door, all grown up, with his close-cropped dark blond hair and piercing blue eyes. Despite his looks, however, there was a certain intensity about him, a barely restrained aura of violence just waiting to be unleashed.

How the two men were able to enter the bus undetected despite Skye’s and Fitz’s redundant and state-of-the-art defence systems worried Ward greatly.

The men, however, were the least of Ward's worries.

Simmons was.

Minutes before the men attacked, Ward received a message from Simmons that she was on their way back to the bus from grocery shopping. Ward could not expect help from Coulson, May, Fitz, or Skye, as all four were out on assignment.

Ward felt a bead of sweat trickle down his spine as he desperately tried to figure out a way to contact Simmons not to head straight home.

He calculated the odds of fighting back, but the simulations he was running through his brain all ended up with him dead or gravely injured. He knew without a doubt that he might hit one of the men, but not both. That outcome was unacceptable. He could not die and leave Simmons unprotected.

“Who are you?” Ward demanded. Maybe if he pretended to cooperate, he would get a chance to put both of them down. “What do you want?”

Then, Ward’s worst fears came true.

All men heard the sound of the cargo bay door opening and of an SUV driving up the ramp.

Before Ward could pull off a Hail Mary pass, the older man spoke.

“We've run out of time,” he said in an accent similar to Simmons’. “On three, we all lower our weapons. One. Two. Three.”

No one was surprised when no one lowered his weapon.

“You first.” Ward bit out to them. It was a matter of courtesy; after all, they were the ones who boarded his bus and took him by surprise.

“I like him,” the younger man stated, his accent American. “I think he’s a keeper.” Then, in a move that surprised Ward, the man tucked his guns into hidden holsters.

“Your turn,” Ward told the British man.

Before anyone could move, however, Simmons called out.

“Ward? Where are you? I need help with the groceries.”

Ward flew. There was no other word for it. He moved from behind the table, over it, then towards the door, desperate to put himself between the biochemist and certain danger; to reach Simmons before the two men did. He was also able to squeeze the trigger of the ICER twice towards the general direction of his captors.

Unfortunately, his shots went wide; and before he could take two steps out of the room, he was grabbed from behind and was easily subdued.

“Simmons!” Ward screamed. “Run!”

She must have been too far away to hear because seconds after Ward was disarmed and forced to sit on a chair with the American standing behind him and pointing a gun at his head, Simmons walked into the kitchen. Surprisingly, by then, the elder man had also holstered his weapons.

“Did you say something, Ward?” Simmons asked.

Ward wanted to lash out violently at his two captors, but he was afraid that the men may take it out on Simmons. His fists tightened on the armrests.

“Oh my god.” Simmons gasped when she finally saw the two men behind Ward.

Instead, however, of doing the smart thing like running out and calling for help, Simmons rushed inside, towards the British man.

“No!” Ward cried out as he broke out from the American’s hold. “Don’t touch her!” He waited for the gunshot that would end his life that never came. Instead, the American merely jerked him backwards.

Ward immediately realized that the British man was not a threat to Simmons. He was not hurting her; he was hugging her. And she was hugging him back.

What was going on?

Simmons released the Brit and turned to the man behind Ward. “You, too?” She asked with a delighted smile.

“Why not?” The American opened his arms, and Ward was no longer surprised when once again Simmons rushed into the other man’s arms.

“Oh!” She exclaimed after she stepped back from the American. She went to Ward and grabbed his hand. “You’ve met Ward, of course.”

“We’ve heard about him.” The Brit said tartly. His next statement was a tad inaudible, but Ward could have sworn he muttered, “Because of that damned picture.”

“Who are they?” Ward demanded suspiciously.

“You don’t know?” Simmons gaped at him.

Ward frowned down at her.

“They're James and Jason!” She told him, as if those names meant something to him. “My brothers!”

At Ward’s disbelieving look, Simmons sighed.

“Adopted brothers,” the American explained. “Her parents found us and brought us home. We never left.”

Ward saw Simmons roll her eyes at that.

“The name is James.” The Brit told him, a hand thrusted out as a peace-offering.

“SHIELD?” Ward asked.

“No.” He replied easily. “MI6.”

“You?” Ward turned to the American, also shaking his hand.

“Freelance.” The other one, Jason, replied. “Contract assassin.”

“Oh, please,” Simmons rolled her eyes. “I thought you were CIA?”

“I was,” Jason replied. “Then they tried to have me killed.”

“Anyway, if Ward did not invite you,” Simmons frowned up at her brothers. “What are you doing here?”

When no one answered, Simmons realised what was going on. “Oh no, you didn’t! You’re here because you somehow found out that I’m dating Ward!”

“We’re only doing this because we love you, you know.” Jason told her.

“And mum wonders why I’m still single!” Simmons snapped. “That’s it!” She then began furiously digging into her purse. Then, she held out her phone in triumph.

“What are you gonna do?” James asked, playfully tugging on a lock of Jemma’s hair. “Tell mum on us?” 

“No.” Jemma almost growled. “I’m going to tell Fitz.”

As one, the brothers visibly shuddered.

Ward raised an eyebrow. They were afraid of Fitz? Interesting.

“He once made all my gear explode.” Jason finally offered in explanation. “While I was fighting for my life in the middle of nowhere.”

“Radioactive cupcakes,” was all James contributed to the conversation.

“Fitz may look harmless and adorable, but his mind is twisted like a pretzel.” Jason grimaced.

“Fitz!” Simmons finally cried out to her phone after she connected. “You never know who dropped by.” She then walk out of the kitchen as she related her story to her oldest friend. Before she exited, however, she held up a finger, warning the men inside to behave themselves.

“Now that she’s sufficiently distracted,” James said as he pulled out a chair and straddled it.

“Sit.” Jason once again forced Ward down a chair.

“We’re here to tell you the rules of dating our baby sister.” James began.

**Author's Note:**

> (And because I feel like an idiot, I want to explain the prompt fill:) Ward deals with the fallout of Skye inadvertently posting a selfie with Simmons kissing Ward at the background.


End file.
